


Hallway Meetings

by 8ron



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluffy comedy, Modern AU, baby on the doorstep, building romance, future relationships involving more characters in later chapters, future smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-24
Updated: 2015-05-31
Packaged: 2018-04-01 02:18:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4002115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/8ron/pseuds/8ron
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cullen has a new job, a new apartment, but a love life that is going no where. He is miserably restless, and yearns for a bit of spice to mix up his boring lifestyle.<br/>Until someone leaves a baby on his door step, and in a fit of desperation he turns to his extremely alluring (and annoying) neighbour for help. </p><p>Lavellan doesn't know the first thing about babies. She can barely take care of herself, let alone someone else. And has firmly rescind herself to a life of spinsterhood.<br/>Until her extremely handsome neighbour is pushing a baby into her arms, and her daydreams are suddenly taken over by tiny shoes and kissing Rutherford.</p><p>(Modern AU. Will change the rating and add more tags as chapters go.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

He’d have to walk home in the rain.

Cullen stifled a groan and slammed his locker shut. Rain meant wet hair. And wet hair meant tight curls. He should never have given his umbrella to Krem.

“Do you want to join us?” Cassandra called, rapping her knuckles on the changing room door and peering inside. She was still dressed in uniform, and giving him a frighteningly stern look for someone who was inviting him out for takeaway with colleagues.

“Ah. Not tonight. I have -”

“Things to do.” she ended for him, reminding him that he’d used that excuse before, that she hadn't believe it even then, but was willing to accept the lie in any case. “I’ll see you tomorrow then. Don’t work too late into the night.”

She left him at that, off to join the others. Cullen pulled his coat on and tried to ignore the lingering guilt. Cassandra was the only reason he’d landed the job at the precinct, the only reason he now had an affordable flat in a nice neighbourhood. After the incident, she’d put his life back on track. Yet he wasn't acting as thankful as he should, or at settling down as well as she’d hoped.

Three months since moving to Haven and Cassandra was still his only friend. He wasn't even sure how to go about making them anymore. And forget about talking to women.

He laughed under his breath. Talking to women had never exactly been his forte. Best not to think about it, concentrate on the rain instead.

It had been dreary for days, and he gave the sky a curtesy scowl while exiting the police station. Cullen stalked down the street with long strides, soaked to the bone in a matter of minutes and with five blocks still to go.

When was the last time he’d talked to a woman anyway? He supposed there was Cassandra. But for reasons he couldn't fathom, that particular woman didn't seem to count. Sure, she made him nervous - like most women did - but it was due to an intimidating aura his friend proudly possessed, rather than his own feeble nerves with the opposite sex.

He avoided a puddle, then heard a splash five paces later. Cullen turned, hand inching to his gun, then after a few moments standing in the wet continued on with a shake of his head, blaming his paranoia. 

Leliana and Josephine. They were definitely female. And he talked to them all the time. That surely counted. Though he’d never attempted to flirt with either one - the mere idea caused him to scoff, they’d no doubt find any attempts on his part hilarious - and realised he had no real desire to in any case. No, maybe they didn’t count either. But at least this meant he was not entirely without friends.

_Then why didn’t you go get dinner with them?_

He was released from his internal scolding by an itch on the back of his neck; and - not for the first time that evening - Cullen got the distinct impression that he was being watch. He turned again, and this time his hand really did fall to his gun, gripping the handle under his jacket until his knuckles turned white.

Breath held, he watched a cat dart from a nearby alley and run from the rain.

Despite his doubts, Cullen quickened his stride, practically jogging, and sighed when he finally made it to his apartment block; oddly relieved. He blamed that on the rain. After all, he was completely soaked to the bone and definitely in need of a warm shower.

His hands darted into pockets and hunted for his keys, that lingering feeling of not being alone making them impossible to find. After a few moments fumbling, his neighbour appeared behind the glass doors. Solas; a thin man with a completely bald head and a penchants for wandering around in his pyjamas. Cullen rapped his knuckles on the door, hoping he didn’t look too much like a vagabond and was recognizable.

“Hey! Would you mind opening the door?”

With an irritating casualness about him, Solas checked his pigeon hole and flicked through his mail, pausing at a newspaper and completely ignoring him.

“Solas? I’m your neighbour, I have the place above you. I’ve forgotten my keys!” Louder this time, with just the barest hint of anger cutting between his gritted teeth.

That feeling again. Cullen spun on his heels, checking the empty street, sure he had heard something; and did not turn back until he heard the door clicking open.

“It isn’t locked,” Solas said. He raised one thin eyebrow, regarding Cullen’s appearance with the smallest twitch of his lips. “You should carry an umbrella.”

“Yeah. Thanks. Thank you.” He shuffled in, glaring. Solas was already making his way up the stairs with a grunt, giving Cullen the rather blunt feeling that he didn’t consider him worth his time.

Not exactly a warm welcome home, and he wondered how many strings Cassandra had to have pulled to get him a place in the same building. Huffing, he crossed the lobby and began the slow trek up the stairs. They twisted at two right angles, and – as unlucky as he was – Cullen lived on the second to top floor. By the time he made it through the threshold and into his flat he was panting, tired and worn and extremely wet.

Though he had the excuse of just moving in, Iron Bull had apparently lived in this space for years, yet the boys had hardly furnished the place at all. A couch, two chairs, and then a drum set where the tv would have traditionally been. No paintings on the walls, no curtains hanging from the rails. Bull clearly didn’t care and Cullen wasn’t one to notice in any case.

At least he had the place to himself for once, until Bull returned in a few weeks with his merry crew of misfits in tow. He groaned at the thought of eternal band practise starting yet again, and glared at the drums that were sat neglected and gathering dust before making a beeline to the bathroom.

He’d only managed to strip his sticking coat to the floor and get his shirt over his shoulders when the phone rang, and he struggled to pull the wet material off his head, banging into the kitchen doorframe.

“Hello?” He said. Half into the phone and half into his shoulder, somehow getting tangled around the phone cord as well and nearly choking. “Rutherford speaking.” Cullen pulled cord and shirt off completely, face red even though whoever was on the other end couldn’t possibly see his struggle. “Hello?”

Someone breathing, then the clear click of the phone being put down.

Years of dealing with the backend of society sent his warning signs up. And nerves jittered, but after staring at the phone for five minutes his need for a shower beckoned anew, and Cullen turned away.

There was a rap on the door before he’d even left the kitchen, and this time he leapt at the sound, cringing.

It wasn’t rent time already, was it? No. No. Varric wouldn’t be collecting until the end of the month. Stop being paranoid. Always so paranoid. Though he couldn’t help but feel this had something to do with the phone call. Throat turned dry, his palms clammy. Policemen weren’t exactly popular, and he could think of more than a few people he’d pissed off.

His mind raced to figure out who it could possibly be as he made his way to answer. Trying to keep positive. Someone for Iron Bull? Cassandra come back early to drag him out after all? No. Who else then? Samson? Definitely not.

His hand hesitated on the handle, nerves making his fingers twitch. Gun was on the coffee table. Phone in the kitchen. It was fine, he was safe.  _Just answer the god damn door._

Cullen swung it open to face an empty corridor, blinking like an idiot. Kids playing pranks then? Of course. It explained the phone call as well, and he rolled his eyes,

Then the shrill cry of baby sent his blood to ice.

 _No. No. No. No._  He looked to the ground praying for nothing, and instead stared at a bulging sports bag, and a car seat on the floor, complete with crying baby. Or maybe crying wasn’t the right word for it, shrieking was a better term. Pudgy face red as the little thing tried it’s hardest to rattle his ear drums.

Really panicking now. There were only two apartments on each floor, and Cassandra lived across from him. Cullen may be an unreliable friend, but he was absolutely positive she didn’t have a baby.

She _did_ have a roommate though. One he had yet to meet. Who was to say her roommate didn’t have a baby? Except for the fact this was a child free building and Cassandra didn’t seem the type to babysit. Cullen ignored those facts. “Okay. Just… be quiet for one second. Maker, please stop crying.”

The wails grew louder if anything, and with one foot he ever so gently pushed the car seat a few inches away, so it was technically closer to Cassandra’s door than his own. There. Baby had been left on  _their_  doorstep,  _not_  his. Meaning that after getting this elusive roommates attention, said baby would no longer be  _his_  problem.

Crying intensified. He bent down and patted the baby on the head, wincing when this seemed to upset it even more.

“Sorry, sorry! I’ll get your mum. This is fine, everything’s fine, just be quiet. Shhh, shhh.” He leant up and bashed on the door, even though it was nearly 1am. He’d never even seen Cassandra’s roommate and now he was waking her up in the early hours of the morning. Way to make a first impression.

No answer. He knocked again, rising to his feet. Rain, baby, and no response was all adding up to turn his mood from bad to worse.

“Who’s there?” Someone called behind the door, sounding worried more than anything.

Cullen tried to keep his voice even and friendly, crying accompaniment not helping him do a fantastic job. “I live opposite. You’ve left your baby in the hall.”

“What? Listen, my roommates a cop. In fact I’m calling the police right now.”

“No! Don’t do that. I  _am_  police. No, wait. I mean I’m a police officer.”

“What’s a police officer doing handing out babies?”

“I’m not -!” He groaned, glancing down to the car seat. That was exactly what he was doing. “I know your roommate. Cassandra? We’re old friends.”

“She’s never mentioned you.”

“You don’t even know who I am to mention.”

Silence, and he felt just a little smug knowing that he’d outwitted her. Though it hadn’t gotten the door open, so he supposed in a way she was still winning.

“Who are you then?” The voice asked.

“Cullen Rutherford. I just moved across the hall, Iron Bull’s my roommate.”

“Oh… she has mentioned you.” Definitely a defeated tone. He smiled, until another wail wiped it away. Maker, babies were loud.

“Will you open the door now? I think someone’s left a baby on your doorstep.”  _Liar._ “I can see you through the peep hole.”

Her eye disappeared from view, and Cullen chuckled as the door opened a crack, still on its chain. Smart girl. He looked down and was immediately stunned. He hadn’t been expecting someone good looking, and stared for a few minutes while she glared up at him, a blob of paint marking her nose. Why was their paint on her nose? When was the last time he’d flirted with a woman again?

“Why is it crying? Children aren’t allowed in the block.” She craned her neck to stare down at the car seat. “And if you wake up Solas it’ll be your head on the line.”

“I um…” Words. Why couldn’t he think of any words? “I’m Cullen.” He snapped his hand out for her to shake, humiliation trickling its way down his back as she stared instead of taking it.

“You’ve said that already. I’m Ellana."

He repeated the name again and again in his head, swallowing.

“And it’s closer to your door.” She added.

Oh no, now there was one argument he was determined to win, and his foot inched the car seat even closer. “Like hell it is. Listen, this baby has been left on your door step and I – you – Maker. Can’t you just stop it from crying? Please?” Desperate now, almost begging. He was getting a headache. If there was one thing he didn’t need help getting it was headaches.

She gave him another long look, large eyes narrowing into distrustful slits. “You work with Cassandra?”

“For three months now.”

“Then why aren’t you out at that meal they have after the night shift?”

“Maker’s breath. Look, here.” He stuck his hand in his back pocket, finding his keys – typical – and his badge. “See? I’m a police officer. Plus your neighbour. I’m not a fishy person, honest. Now just… stop the crying.”

She closed the door on his face without another word, and for a few moments Cullen tried to think what he’d done wrong. Until he heard the chain being unlatched and the door was open anew, and Ellana appeared in full view. He took in her appearance, and immediately chortled. Paint not only marked her nose, but was splattered down her neck and all over her clothes, which were a pair of extremely unflattering, bright orange, overalls.

“What are you laughing at?” She sneered, bending down and unstrapping the baby from the chair. “I’ve been painting. I paint in these, okay?”

“I wasn’t laughing.” He lied. Cullen covered his hand over his mouth and pressed down hard; watching as she scooped the baby up and began to rock it gently on her shoulder. A natural. This was definitely her problem.

“Shhh. Baby, baby. Shhh, baby, baby.” She continued to coo, lips pulling into a dazzling smile. Until she gave him a side long glance, and the scowl she saved just for him was back on full force. “Yeah right. Why are you crying, baby? Shh now. Did the naked man scare you?”

He definitely wasn’t imagining the evil twinkle in her eye, and Cullen finally remembered that he wasn’t wearing a shirt. A blush blossomed on his cheeks in a hot rush, spreading down his neck and across his very bare chest. And now it was Ellana’s turn to laugh, cackling in her messy overalls as she bounced the baby on her hip.

“Maker’s breath. I was about to shower when someone knocked… I’ll be right back.”

“Wait! You can’t leave me with your baby!”

He ignored her and darted back into his flat. Cullen found his shirt on the kitchen floor and pulled it on, still damp and extremely uncomfortable. He glanced at the phone then froze. Someone had called him. Someone had made sure he was home before knocking on his door and leaving that baby behind.

His head suddenly felt extremely dizzy, and he had to take a few moments to breathe, leaning on the counter top. Okay, maybe this was his problem. But Ellana didn’t know that did she? He could trick Cassandra’s roommate into being a temporary babysitter of sorts, just while he tried to find the mother. Just while he tried to sort this all out.

There were a lot of questions he needed the answers to. But if Cullen knew anything it was that this was definitely not  _his_  baby. It was absolutely impossible, and he was oddly thankful for his recent dry spell. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d flirted with a woman! Let alone…

He cleared his throat and tried to stop blushing. Turning the sink on and splashing some cold water onto his face didn’t help much, yet he rubbed furiously anyway.

One step at a time, Rutherford. First order of business: setting up his free babysitter.

Mind-set, he returned to the corridor. Only to find it empty of its previous occupants, including the bag and car seat. Panic settled in his gut. A strange protectiveness crawling over him, one that he hadn’t known he’d possessed until a few moments ago. Concerned for Ellana, the baby, or both, he wasn’t quite sure.

He needn’t have worried though, as Cassandra’s door had been left a jar, and when he poked his head inside he found both her roommate and his – not his, definitely not his,  _the_  - baby inside. Ellana was kneeling on the floor, baby on the couch, her back to him as she changed a stinking nappy. Cullen found himself staring at her hair. It was longer than he’d previously thought. Nearly reaching the nape of her back in honey brown waves, just a little darker than her skin.

Another part of him considered escaping. They were clearly fine for now. He could go shower, make some important phone calls. It wasn’t abandoning her technically, she knew where he lived.

He took a step back.

“She needed changing. That’s what all the crying was about. Whoever left her at least included some diapers.” She said, apparently having heard him enter. Escape now impossible.

“I hadn’t even noticed she’d stopped crying.” He stepped closer, looking around. The girls had done a much better job of decorating, in that they had actually bothered to decorate. The open living room was cosy with couches and chairs, a coffee table, even a tv. The kitchen looked messy, with pots and pans piled in the sink, but probably had some actual food in it, which was more than he could say for his own kitchen.

Not only that, put the walls were absolutely covered in paintings. Enough to almost be overbearing. No space was left untouched, and huge canvases were splattered with plaint. Sometimes seeming like random, colourful, patterns. Sometimes creating clearly intentional shapes – a dog here, a woman in a dress there, a couple hung over the TV, a pot of flowers had been painted by the window.

“Are you an artist?” He asked, doing a slow circle as he took it all in.

“Pfft. No. Barista by day. Bar maid by night. Artists usually manage to sell at least _one_ painting.” The bitterness hung heavy in the air, and he averted his eyes back down to the baby, changing the topic to the most obvious choice. “How do you know it’s a she?”

“I just changed her nappy, duh. Plus she’s wearing pink. Hadn’t you noticed?” He shrugged, she scoffed. “Some cop you are.”

Pride prickled his skin, and Cullen got started with his plan. “Indeed. Anyway, seem as we don’t know whose doorstep she was left at, I suppose it’s both our problem. It’s only fair, I guess. I don’t want to just leave you with this. So you can keep her safe while I make a few phone calls?”

“No, I’m not going to do that.”

He paused. Not the answer he’d been expecting.

“Excuse me?”

Ellana rose to her full height, as if she needed it to argue with him, but it still meant she only reached his shoulders. A chair would do it. “She was left at your doorstep, obviously. You said someone knocked on your door?”

“Urm… yes?”

“Then shes obviously meant for you. Anyway, who leaves a baby with a random woman? It’s not like I have a bunch of kids running around that I don’t know about.”

“Well I don’t!”

“You obviously do.”

They were silenced by that shrill wail he was coming to hate so much, and said baby began to cry anew, kicking her arms and legs in the air.

“Your problem.” Ellana said, crossing her arms and giving him a ‘don’t fuck with me’ look.

Cullen’s throat closed completely. This was definitely his problem.


	2. Chapter 2

A few moments passed and Cullen failed to pick up the crying baby. In fact he just stood there, looking extremely gormless, as if he couldn’t quite believe she’d expect it from him, and the very idea itself was something from a horror show.  _Just pick her up!_  Ellana wanted to shout, not feeling too patient about the whole ordeal when she was meant to be asleep. Really, she needed them both out of her flat. It was late, in a few hours she would need to leave for work, and she still had to clean the paint away before Cassandra got home.

Yet here she was, awake and watching Cullen Rutherford - a man who she’d only known by word of mouth a few moments ago - stare at his baby as if it had tentacles for arms.

“Oh for goodness sake, here.” Ellana scooped the baby into her arms, immediately being engulfed by that sweet new born smell –  _oh no_. She couldn't start getting attached, not to his baby, or any baby for that matter. No matter how cute. “Take her.” She said, rather curtly. “Remember to support her head.”

“No, no, no -!” Cullen began to protest, but she was already thrusting the kicking little thing into his arms, moving his hands into place before stepping back. He remained stiff and uncomfortable, struggling as the baby wiggled like an eel, clearly not happy over the situation either. His large hangs were gentle, though slightly useless. It was oddly sweet, if not a little worrying.

“You look…” she sucked the breath in through her teeth, trying to find an adjective that wasn’t too insulting. “Awkward, honestly. Haven’t you ever held a baby before?”

“My siblings.” Cullen admitted, surprising her. Baby continued to cry and he tried to balance her against one arm, not wanting her to touch his shirt. “But that was a long time ago. I don’t remember how.”

“Well you best start, baby daddy.”

“Do  _not_  call me that. It’s not my baby.”

“She.”

“Who?”

“She’s a she. Not an it. And if you’re not the father then who is?” Ellana scoffed, crossing her arms. Of course he’d insist he wasn't the father. No doubt he had a new girl every night. Cullen was good looking – not that she  _had_ been looking, he just had that wham-in-your-face kind of attractiveness that couldn't go ignored. Broad shoulders, muscular build, a strong jaw covered in day’s old stubble. Even the scar on his lip added to that prince charming theme he had going. It certainly wasn't ugly, in fact it just raised more questions. How had he gotten it? What would it feel like to touch? To kiss?

Ellana’s ears turned red at the thought, and she turned away to glare at the car seat. It was a good idea to just avoid watching Mr Rutherford if she was going to think like that, especially when he holding a baby. He looked like he’d just gotten out of bed – and not his own. What kind of man had a baby he didn't know about anyway? And then denied it on top of everything. Best not to think about him at all.

“Maybe whoever it was left a note? Instructions? A how-to?” She wondered aloud, voice raised as the crying continued. He’d started to bounce the baby on his knee, foot resting on the coffee table as he copied Ellana’s cooing from earlier with poor results. “Or at least a bottle. I think she’s hungry.” She added, moving her paint and half-finished canvas away from his foot, tutting.

“Of course. The bag.” He latched onto the opportunity, immediately handing back crying, drooling, snotty infant. Ellana had little choice but to hold her again, and glared as he backed off. “I’ll take a look.” Of course he would. Cullen perched himself on the edge of the couch and began hunting through the gym bag, pulling items out on random to clutter up her floor.  _Fantastic._  She watched him. Bottles, nappies, a thermometer, spare vests, cotton buds, hats, socks, tiny shoes – her eyes widened at those, Maker they were adorable – baby formula, a blanket, wet wipes, clothes,  _more_  nappies.

“Maker. How much stuff do babies need?” He asked, disbelieving.

“A lot apparently. Pass me the formula and a bottle so I can feed her.” He did as asked, and Ellana carried all three into the kitchen. Though she kept one eye on the stranger in her living room, still rummaging for a note and looking extremely upset. How many women must he sleep with to get in this sort of mess? She dumped bottle and formula onto the counter and turned the kettle on to boil. The squealing in her ear wasn’t letting up any time soon, and grabby hands had started to tug on her hair, making her job all the harder. “Ow. Ow. Ow!”

“Are you okay?” Cullen called over, glancing up.

“Yeah.  _Super.”_ She said, scalp aching. “You know I'm just helping with feeding her and then you’re on your own. I have work in the morning.” She bent her neck at an awkward angle to try and accommodate the hair tugging, hurrying up with the formula. Ellana pulled the jar off with more force than was necessary, and powder splattered over her clean counter top. She groaned, managing to spill very little into the actual bottle. This would have been a lot easier if Cullen had been willing to hold the baby, who definitely did not like being balanced on one arm.

“Of course. You've already done more than enough.” He agreed straight away, but she could tell he just didn't mean it. Well tough luck. She was determined to get Cullen Rutherford and his secret love child out of her apartment before Cassandra got home. Or maybe she should wait for Cassandra to get home. Ha. Then he’d be in trouble.

Or she’d go all cooey over the baby. Hard to say.

“There is a note!” Cullen joined her by the fridge, waving a piece of paper in the air and looking immensely pleased with himself. “It was in the car seat, not the bag.”

“Well what does it say?”  _Patience Ellana. Patience. Try to stop grinding your teeth into dust._  She poured the hot water into the bottle and twisted the cap shut. Didn't the nipple have to be disinfected? Or was that just with new borns? She wasn't even sure how to do it, or how old his baby was. And the milk was definitely too hot. Considering – out of the two of them – she was meant to know what she was doing, Ellana was at a secret loss.

“It err…” he flicked the letter open, eyes scanning. “Sorry, I can’t handle this any more.” The colour drained from his face as he continued to read aloud. “I don’t know where else to turn. Her names Grace. Oh no…”

“It says oh no?”

“No,  _I’m_  saying oh no.” He snapped, irking her to no end.

“I see. Well then, why don’t you say ‘oh no’ while feeding  _your_  baby in _your own_  apartment.” She passed Grace back, ignoring his protests.

“I didn’t mean to snap. I’m sorry, Ellana. You can’t leave me with her. I don’t know the first thing about babies.”

“Neither do I.” She admitted, waving her hands in the air.

“Of course you do.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I mean… well… she likes you more than me already. And you’re a woman and –“

“Oh, Creator’s save me.” She huffed, shaking the formula in her hand.  “You’ve got more experience than me. Now I think you should both leave before I call Cassandra.”

“Iron Bull!” He gasped, no longer seeming so awkward with Grace as he was distracted. She gaped her lips against his shirt, hunting for a nipple whilst he gently rocked her.

“Your roommate?” Ellana tested the formula on her wrist, and when it didn't feel too hot she stepped closer to Cullen, gently pressing the bottle towards the baby’s mouth.

He looked down at her, realizing that his angry neighbour was suddenly very close. Close enough to touch. She smelt like vanilla and soap. He guessed her shampoo, but under it all was the crisp scent of paint, chemical but not altogether unpleasant. He cleared his throat, trying to return to the present. “Yes, my roommate. She has to belong to Bull. It’s been months since I – I um..” his cheeks turned scarlet, and she quirked one eyebrow. “Since I um – “

“So go get your roommate.” She said, saving him from further embarrassment. At that point Grace took the rubber nipple into her mouth and began to drink heavily. They both watched her together, overjoyed that she’d stopped crying. The silence was a desperate respite, broken only by the gentle sucking of the baby and an odd gurgle or two. Ellana smiled at that, gently holding the bottle in place. Cullen found himself smiling too, watching them both.

“She is rather precious, isn’t she?” Ellana murmured.

“Yeah…” His voice came out more breathy than intended, and she flicked her gaze up to him. A familiar heat was spreading in his stomach, making it flutter, threatening to bring back his stutter.

_Bad idea. Very bad idea._

“Bull’s not here.” He said. Finally, getting back to business. “He’s on tour with his band.”

“You mean it’s you guys that make that awful racket?!” Anger twisted her face yet again. He was becoming very use to that expression on her.

“Well… they do. Not me. I usually try to sleep through it. Or I’m working.” He said. Cullen was always working.

“Hmph.”

“Honest. I can’t even play the triangle.”

Ellana quirked her lips and huffed the tiniest of laughs, wanting to still be furious with him, not charmed. “Suppose you’re watching her until he gets back then.” She murmured, gaze drifting back to Grace. Though she must have felt his heavy lidded glaze, as she flashed back up before he could even open his mouth to reply, frown in place. “And don’t even think of unloading her on me. I’m not going to be your babysitter.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” He lied, planning on doing it right that instant. “But you two do seem to have developed quite a bond.” Ellana scrunched her nose and scoffed, not looking convinced. She stepped away from him once Grace spat out the bottle, finished. 

The baby began to drift off straight away, and Cullen frowned down at her. If she fell asleep he wouldn’t get to move for hours. “What do I do with her now?” He asked.

“Put her over your shoulder and burp her.”

He curled his lip but did as he was told, feeling sticky drool on his neck straight away.  “Couldn’t you just watch her –“

“Oh hell no.”

“For half an hour?” He finished over her. “Just so I can shower and get changed. I'm still all grungy from work.”

“You are rather grungy,” she agreed, smiling at him. If Cullen didn't know any better he would have been sure she was flirting.

“I don’t normally look like this.” He hastened to tell her. There were those nerves again.

“What do you normally look like?”

He started to answer, then sent her a slow, lazy smile. Two could play at this game. “So do you sleep in the orange overalls or are they just for show?”

Her cheeks burned a bright red, and Ellana began to paw at her lumpy clothes. “Oh maker, I forgot I was wearing these.”

“They suit you.”

“Shut up.”

“No really. I was thinking about getting some myself. Maybe in lime green.”

“Ugh, fine.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’ll babysit while you shower. You can stop teasing.”

His smiles grew, nodding enthusiastically as he handed her Grace back, who was half asleep and still – unfortunately – drooling. “Thank you! I’ll be 30 minutes.”

“Five.”

“Twenty.”

“Ten.”

“Fifteen.”

“Fifteen minutes then. You better come back.” They shook on it and then Cullen made his way out of the flat, Ellana following. “I mean it! I have work first thing in the morning.”

“I promise I’ll be back. Besides, all the baby stuffs here.” And with that he was gone, leaving Ellana to look around her messy living room, baby gear scattered across the floor, adding to the painting supplies she already had to clean up.

“Creators. He makes more mess than me.” She grumbled to Grace, before kicking the door shut without thought, successfully waking her up, who began to cry anew.


	3. Chapter 3

Cullen stood still while the water hit his shoulders, and tried to come to terms with the evenings' events. It was easier to put it into tidy points, to see everything as black and white. Iron Bull had a daughter, but wasn’t due back for another month. He’d have to try and call him, and in the mean time would look after Grace. To add to the complications, his neighbour was extremely attractive, and he definitely had to rope her into helping him as much as possible.

His arm tensed, braced against the wall, hand clenching into a tight fist. That last point wasn’t so much a fact but rather a bad idea, and shouldn't be followed under any circumstances. But he wanted to. Even now he imagined her next door, looking after Grace, no doubt complaining about him. She seemed the type to mutter without noticing. He smiled, rubbing his face and stepping out of the shower.

He was tempted to linger, to stay under the stream of hot water for an hour, and then spend the rest of the night trying to reach Iron Bull. But he’d promised to be no longer than fifteen minutes, and he’d wasted ten already. Say one thing for Cullen, say he was a man of his word.

Wrapping a towel around his abdomen, he strode into the kitchen and hunted for a quick meal. The fridge revealed nothing but beer and dubious smelling milk. He groaned and took one of the beers, gulping it down to the neck. 

He’d have to buy a cot. Grace couldn't sleep in her car seat forever. How much were cots anyway? Years of being a workaholic had left him with a fair amount of savings, but Cullen was sure babies were expensive. The amount in that bulging sports bag had said enough. 

He finished drying and moved to get dressed, pulling on slacks and a t-shirt. Iron Bull didn't own a cell phone. He wondered coldly if Bull would even know who the mother was. She certainly had to be found as well. Clearly the woman was in trouble if she would willingly give up her baby to Iron Bull without even a hello. These were thoughts for later though. Running a hand through his still wet hair, he groaned. Fifteen minutes were up, and with some reluctance Cullen abandoned his drink and walked out of his apartment.

Crossing the threshold into her own, he’d expected to find Ellana awake and with a practised argument ready to go. Instead she was asleep on the couch, sprawled out haphazardly with her neck craned at an awkward ankle, drooling onto her arm. Grace was asleep in her car seat, looking surprisingly cute now that her mouth was closed. He watched for longer than was necessary, feeling his stomach flutter over the picture perfect scene - or well, nearly picture perfect, as it turned out Ellana snored, grunting in time with her breathing. 

He could leave. It wouldn't be abandoning her with the baby. Not really. They were both asleep, blissfully he might add. Cullen could get some work done, make his phone calls, start hunting down Iron Bull. It would be better for anyone. 

He’d already taken a step back when a voice spoke out, and Cassandra appeared from the kitchen, frowning.

“So when you said you had stuff to do, I had no idea it involved giving my roommate a baby.” She huffed, turning back around to finish wiping down the counter tops. Clearly angry,

“W-What?” He stuttered, embarrassed. How long had she been stood there? Had she caught him looking?

“Ellana’s been telling me what happened. Apparently you tried to trick her into taking your baby. Or Iron Bull’s baby. It was difficult to grasp the situation before she fell asleep.”

“I didn’t plan this Cassandra.”

“No. As far as first impressions go its pretty bad. Even for you.”

His cheeks flared red, and Cullen started to clean up the mess he’d made in the living room. Stuffing baby clothes back into the bag in an attempt to get back in her good graces.

“When did you get back?” He asked, quietly so as to not wake up Ellana.

“Ten minutes ago. Not long after you left. You should have come with us. Leliana pinned Josephine’s pants to a small board.”

He smothered a laugh and shook his head. A comfortable silence fell on the pair as they cleaned up. Cassandra collected the paintbrushes and washed the used bottle, Cullen finished packing the bag and pulled a blanket from the couch, gently covering Ellana with it - who continued to snore. 

He smiled down at her, until Cassandra gave him a look and he turned away, clearing his throat.

“Well?” She said, clearly having been expecting something this entire time.

“I urm..” he panicked, trying to think what she possibly wanted him to say or do. “I’m sorry for bothering you both.” He said finally, only that apparently was the very wrong thing to say, as Cassandra rolled her eyes and grunted, flinging her arms in the air as if his oblivious nature was typical.

“No. I meant, when are you going to ask for my help? You clearly need it. From all of us.”

“Oh I wouldn’t dream - “

“Don’t be so stubborn, Cullen. You can’t do this alone. Leliana and Josie can help find the mother. You can reach Iron Bull in that time. And then we’ll have to make sure no one finds out theres a baby in the building.”

He nodded, grateful, really. But those weren’t the issues he actually wanted help with. “So you’ll... look after Grace every now and then?”

Her eyes widened, first at him, then to the baby. “I don’t know the first thing about children.”

“Neither do I.”

“Besides, our shifts coincide on most days. Its impossible.”

He side, rubbing his neck. “Well someone will have to babysit her, I can’t skip work and neither can you.”

“Who though?”

They gave each other a look, stubborn and a little bit guilty all at the same time, before speaking their answer as one.

**“Ellana.”**

_______________________________________

Sunlight streamed through the windows the next morning, pouring warm sunlight directly onto Ellana’s dozing face. 

She groaned, extremely uncomfortable but far too exhausted to get up. Instead twisting her face into a pillow and wincing as her neck cracked in response. Ouch. That was what you got for sleeping on the couch.

She then tried to remember why she had drifted off on the couch. She’d been bouncing Grace’s car seat with one foot, glaring at the clock. Had Cullen come to collect her in the end? She was sure he’d come back. Or maybe she’d dreamed it all?

Just thinking about her insufferably handsome neighbour irked her mood, and she pressed her face harder into the pillow, trying to wipe the memory of his bare chest from her mind. If anything though, the picture in her head became more vivid. Recalling chiselled abs, broad shoulders, a stubbly jaw, and honest eyes that seemed to bore into her very soul.

Stop. Stop. That was enough of that. The less she saw of him the better. In fact, Ellana made a point to avoid him. Which shouldn’t be too difficult. He’d been living in the same building over a month and she hadn’t even caught a glimspe of the man until he’d been banging on her door, baby in tow. The creep.

“Ellana?” A deep voice rumbled near her head, sounding sweet and caring and thoroughly enticing. Her stomach flipped and she pulled her head up, horrified to find the man she wanted to avoid was stood in her living room.

“Oh good you’re awake.” Cassandra drawled, coming to stand next to Cullen. She was feeding Grace by the bottle, and the sight alone was enough to wake her up completely. Ellana gaped at her, then at Cullen, frowning at how handsome he managed to look in a police uniform. Now that just wasn't fair. 

“Am I still dreaming? Whats happening?” She said. Croaked really. Unlike them - apparently - Ellana was not a morning person, and no doubt looked terrible. She ran a hand through her bed head hair, feeling suddenly self conscious. Creators, he looked ravishing in a police uniform. Did he even realise? 

“We've come to an agreement.” Cassandra said, straight to the point as always. She noted how uncomfortable Cullen looked, guilty, and her eyes narrowed into a distrustful glare.

“Oh?”

“Me and Cullen are going to go to work, as per usual. During this time we will attempt to contact Grace’s parents.”

She could see where this was going, and started to protest, standing up now. “Wait one second -”

“You can watch Grace while we’re at work. After all, the more time we have there, the sooner we’ll be able to sort this entire thing out.” As if it brokered no argument, Cassandra handed her the still suckling baby, who seemed happy to be passed around as long as her bottle came too.

Ellana had little choice but to hold onto Grace, and was once again over whelmed by that baby smell. Damn it. “Thats not fair. I have to work too.”

“Its just you and Dorian in a cafe though. You can bring Grace along. She can’t ride around on patrol with us.” Cullen said, gulping.

“Just a cafe is it?” Her lip curled, temper flaring. “Sorry my job isn't as important as yours, but its still how I buy all my food. And I can’t do it if I have Grace.”

The pair shared a guilty glance. Good, they should feel guilty. And for a few moments Ellana thought she’d won. 

Until Cullen covered her hand in his own, warm fingers stroking, strong and soft and completely capturing her full attention. “Please Ellana. I’ll come in at lunch to give you a break. It’s just for a little while... I have no one else to ask.”

Creators help her, but she couldn't say no to that face. 

“You’ll come in at lunch?”  _So much for avoiding him, idiot._

“I promise.”

“You promised you’d come after fifteen minutes last night.”

“And I did! But you were asleep and - “ his lips pulled into a slow, dangerous smile. She noted how he was still holding her hand. “Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you look sleeping?”

Her face felt like it was on fire, and Ellana snatched her hand back, staring down at the baby settled in her crook arm in order to avoid that heavy gaze.

Cassandra glanced at them in turn, eyebrow rising slightly before she cooled her expression once more, lips twitching into the faintest of smiles.

“Fine. Fine. Don’t push it, I’ll look after her today.”

“Thank you. I won’t forget it.”

“We’ll see you later then,” Cassandra said, grabbing her keys from the coffee table and already leading the way outside. “I’ll call you if we get any answers.”

“Okay.” Ellana watched them both leave, taking Grace’s pudgy little arm and waving it gently as a goodbye. Cullen flashed her one last smile, genuinely relieved to have her help, and Ellana tried to ignore how excited she was to imagine him visiting her at work. Dorian would have a field day when he saw.

“Looks like it’s just me and you kid,” she said. Until midday at least. “You get to meet Dorian in an hour though. I’m not sure if he likes babies though… he definitely won’t like it if you’re sick on his shirt.”

**Author's Note:**

> Oh my gosh! Thank you for reading. I wanted to hold off posting the first chapter for a busier day on the website, but babies on the doorstep are my favorite cliche, so I just went for it.  
> If you have any queries/wants/ways you want this to go, then please! I am open to suggestions. Also the title is terrible, expect it to change.


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